Castaway: April 1, 1965
by G.L. Peabody
Summary: A Gilligan's Island, Quantum Leap crossover told from Sam Beckett's POV. I've since found other GI/QL crossovers in different forums, but this is an original based on Sherwood Schwartz' and Donald Bellasiario's characters.
1. Not a Single Luxury

Oh, boy 

"That was quite a spill, little buddy, are you all right?"

The person concerned for my wellbeing was a rather large man around 50, wearing a yachtsman's cap. I took a gamble with my reply, " Nothing appears to be broken, captain"

The man in blue looked puzzled, "_Captain?_, when did we get so formal, Gilligan. We better have you checked out by the professor."

I replied, "yeah, my head is still spinning."

Quantum leaping has forced me to pick up on fairly subtle nuances. I knew I was in a tropical area due to the balmy weather and the palm trees. The sand and foliage told me that we most likely on a South Pacific island.

My clothing was more ridiculous than my companion's. I was wearing a Red shirt, Khaki pants, sneakers, and an upside down sailor cap. I'm hoping that my companion and I are shipmates, not life mates.

We came into a clearing, and entered the strangest compound of grass huts. We first ran into two very attractive women preparing some sort of pastry dish.

"Hi Skipper, Gilligan", said the brunette. Well now, I have my name and my companions.

"Hello Mary Ann" my companion replied to the brunette and, "Ginger" with a tip of his hat to the redhead. The redhead was very familiar to me, but with my swiss-cheese memory, I couldn't place her.

We came to a hut marked "supply".

Skipper told the man inside "Professor, Gilligan fell out of a coconut tree again"

My new academic friend called to me "lets look, Gilligan, you may have a concussion.'

I replied to the professor. "No, I don't think it's a concussion, I'm just a little disoriented"

The professor laughed "what medical show did you get that from? Let me take a look, Gilligan"

Part of me wanted to shout out that I'm Sam Beckett MD, PhD, what cow college do you teach at… but I submitted to the examination, which was a crude checking of my LOC, pupils, and looking for lumps.

The professor instructed the skipper, "keep an eye on him."

Skipper led me back to the hut that I assume was ours. We passed a middle-aged couple sipping drinks out of some sort of gourds with umbrellas on them. The man also seemed very familiar.

"You going to be OK, Gilligan?" asked the skipper.

"Sure, Skipper, as long as I have some time to relax" I replied while attempting to master the intricacy of a bunk bed type hammock. I was tempted to ask why they didn't bother to make two separate hammocks, but decided against it.

"Ok, I'll leave you alone for a bit while I go chop some wood." Skipper said while grabbing a hatchet.

Almost on cue, somebody I actually did know appeared to walk out of a foot locker. As soon as the captain was gone, I addressed my longtime associate that I could only see. "Al, what took you so long!"

Rear Admiral Al Calavicci, USN answered with " Sam, this place has some weird magnetic force around it. The date is Thursday, April 1, 1965, you are on an island later to be named Howell Island after the man who purchased it, who happens to be on the island with you right now. You're Willy Gilligan, 24, former mate on the ill fated SS Minnow."

I interjected, "I remember now, they were shipwrecked here almost for 15 years. I recognized Howell, and I think some B movie actress"

Al looked a little indignant "Ginger Grant was a star." He hit his multicolored hand control that squeeked. " There were 7 castaways: There was Gilligan; the Skipper, Jonas Grumby, a retired Navy Captain; The millionaire industrialist, Thurston Howell; and his wife, Lovey; the movie star, Grant; Professor and author from Ohio, Roy Hinkley Ph.D.; and the farm girl from Kansas, Mary Anne Summers

After Al was done with his monologue, I asked "am I here to get them off of the island?"

Al was still fiddling with the machine when he answered "Ziggy seems to think that there's a 70 percent possibility that's what you are supposed to do. I'm going to get more information." And on that statement, Al vanished. Somehow, I got the feeling that his "research" involved Ginger and Mary Ann.


	2. A Three Hour Tour

Shortly after the skipper left, the lovely farm girl Mary Ann came in. She had something that looked like a chocolate cream pie.

"Hi Gilligan!' the effervescent brunette chirped "Professor said you didn't feel to well so I decided to bring you your favorite—coconut cream pie."

I looked at the pastry a little dubiously, but I was hungry. I took one taste and my mouth was in pure heaven. Pastry chefs in Paris could only hope to do as well.

"This is fantastic!" I exclaimed, "how did you do it"

Mary Ann beamed a smile, "now Gilligan, a girl has to have some secrets. Besides, you know it was my cooking that got me on this island in the first place."

Mary Ann must have seen the puzzled look on my face, because she continued, "here I enter this B and G sugar recipe contest, and my strawberry rhubarb pie wins. I win all-right, a free trip to Hawaii, along with a three hour tour." She laughed and added for emphasis, "A three hour tour."

"Wow," I replied, "I'm surprised you're not bitter."

She quickly regained her cheerfulness. "Gilligan, I believe things happen for a reason. The very fact we survived the storm without any injury is a miracle. And look, we landed on an island that provides well for us. And more importantly we have become like family."

Al snuck in behind me and asked, "I wonder if she believes in kissing cousins?"

I blurted out "Al!"

Mary Ann became very quizzical "who's Al?"

I quickly covered (being used to this by now), "_I'll _eat half the pie now, and finish the rest later."

Mary Ann suddenly looked concerned, "You must not be feeling very well. I've never seen you not finish a coconut cream pie."

I responded, "I just need a little rest, then I'll be fine."

"OK," replied Mary Ann, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"

After she left Al said "and I'll be keeping an eye on her, and Ginger.

"You really are pushing it, Al," I rebuked my holographic friend.

"Cast away on a deserted Island with two knockouts, you're living everyman's dream." Al retorted.

Al continued, a little more seriously, "I got more information from Ziggy, this guy Gilligan is one of those guys with real dumb luck. Mary Ann was on the money there, the Minnow shouldn't have been able to survive that storm. It took quite a bit of skill and luck to weather through it, and they end up on this stranded on this island. Gilligan and Grumby were shipmates during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Grumby was his captain, and Gilligan had the nickname "lucky". Gilligan had saved Captain Grumby's life from a depth charge that broke loose on deck. After Grumby retired from the Navy, he bought the Minnow and hired Gilligan as a good luck charm."

I added "yeah, I've heard sailors can be superstitious," for the benefit of Al, who had spent over 30 years in a Navy uniform.

Just about then, the professor stopped in, looking quite alarmed. "Gilligan, who are you talking to?" he asked.

I answered, "Don't worry doc, just thinking out loud."

The Professor pressed on, "You're not hearing voices, or seeing things that aren't there."

Al was making faces.

"No, Professor, I'm fine," I said, a little exasperated.

The Professor added, "Head injuries can be tricky, its not like we can take you to the local clinic."

I sighed, "You're right, Professor. I promise to let you know if things get worse."

Al went on with his report, "Hinkley's a certified genius. You'd actually have a lot in common. Who knows what he would contribute if he hadn't spent the prime years of his career trying to make a super-collider from coconuts and palm leaves"

While Al was going on the Professor said, "OK Gilligan, I've got a project that needs my attention. I'll be checking in on you."


	3. Gone Fishin'

I noticed some fishing tackle and a deep-sea rod that must have been salvaged from the wreck of the Minnow. I figured going out fishing would be a good excuse to have a chat with Al without being accused of talking to my self.

"Going to the ol' fishing hole?" Al asked rhetorically. For a holographic admiral, he had a penchant for stating the obvious.

I gathered the fishing gear and headed out of the hut.

For only being here a few months, the castaways had quite an elaborate village with an intricate well-developed system of paths. Following one of the paths, I past by the Howells, who were playing croquet of all things.

I greeted them with, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Howell."

Mr. Howell replied, "Ho there boy, are you going fishing?" This must be the day for stating the obvious.

Mrs. Howell added, "Good luck… try to catch a sturgeon, it has been forever since we've had caviar." I'm beginning to think Gilligan, the Skipper, and Mary Ann are the only normal people on this island.

Mr. Howell answered for me, "I believe, Lovey, that caviar comes from water much colder than this."

Al interjected with, "The Howells actually put up a very exclusive Club Med type resort up on this island after he was rescued. The Castaways, as the vacation hideaway was called, attracted a wide range of the rich and famous from Ginger's movie star friends to the Harlem Globetrotters."

I continued on my way down the path, until I came upon a salt-water lagoon. I found some lures in the tackle box, and cast the line.

"You look like you could use I beer," Al jokingly offered.

"I wish you could hand me one," I laughed.

Al added, "The Howells seemed to be getting something out what they were drinking out of those gourds."

I theorized, "Probably some moonshine rum they made here on the island, its not hard. Or maybe knowing them, they had a case of cognac on the Minnow. Exactly how long have they been here?"

All slammed on his multicolored handset, "About seven months, but you're right, they've really set in roots here."

I agreed, "its like a small city. How is my counterpart?"

Al answered, "He's fine, the real Gilligan is up in the waiting room. He thinks he's in a UFO. The kid really does read a lot of comic books. "

Al got distracted all of the sudden. I looked up and saw why. Ginger and Mary Ann were swimming in the lagoon wearing bikini's. They waved to me. They seemed kind of puzzled by my interest in their swimming, as if Gilligan is not normally interested in the form of two of the most attractive women he could possibly hope to meet.

As if he was reading my mind, Al said "She is beautiful."

I contributed, "and she makes a mean coconut cream pie."

Al looked at me curiously "who are you talking about?"

"Mary Ann," I replied, "who are you referring to?"

"Ginger Grant," of course he said wistfully, "her movies helped me make it through my teen years. Actually, I remember when the Minnow was lost in '64. I was lieutenant j.g. stationed at NAS Miramar in San Diego at the time. I wanted to fly out in a F-4 Phantom and search for her myself. Ginger was a star, but when she finally was rescued in 1978, she was more of a nostalgia act. If we can get her back to Hollywood while she's still in her prime, the publicity of the shipwreck will make her a superstar."

I smiled, "somehow I don't think I leaped here to make Ginger Grant a super star."

The sun was starting to go down. Since I still wasn't completely sure of my way, or what may be lurking in the jungle, I figured I better get to camp. I didn't catch any fish, so I guess I didn't have Gilligan's luck. But I did see a couple of bathing beauties, so maybe a little good fortune did rub off.


	4. Dinner

When I made it back to camp, I noticed the women were setting a long table.

"Have a nice swim ladies?" I asked.

"What did you catch, Gilligan?" asked Ginger.

When I replied, "I came up empty," both women seemed surprised.

Mary Ann addressed me, "Why Gilligan, you always catch something. Be it a fish, transpacific cable, or spaceship, you never come up empty. You're just lucky that way."

Now that was a response I didn't expect. Transpacific cable? Spaceship? Who was this Willie Gilligan I leaped into? I countered with, "Well I guess today just wasn't my day."

Ginger added, "Well it's a good thing we have plenty of food, thanks to the Professor. Go wash up for dinner."

"Yes ma'am," I said while heading to a barrel with an old fashioned pump on it. All of the sudden, I was hit in the back of the head with a sea sponge.

"Do I look old enough to be a ma'am to you?" Ginger playfully scolded me.

Choosing my words extremely carefully and replied, "You could still play my younger sister in the movie version of our adventure." I don't think Gilligan had a younger sister, but the answer nonetheless pleased her.

The setup for dinner was very cool. This was indeed a family, seven places with the captain at the head of the table. The menu looked like some type of dried shellfish along with tropical vegetation. Coconut milk right out of the shell was also served. Dessert, of course, was coconut cream pie.

The Professor addressed me, "you look a lot better Gilligan."

"Thanks Professor," I added, "I seem to be getting my appetite back." That earned a laugh from the table.

Mary Anne said with a smile, "That's our Gilligan. I just hope I made enough fried clams."

Ginger chimed in, "Good thing Professor found all of those giant clams and made that smokehouse for the meat." While saying it she gave the professor a look that I'm sure sold a lot of tickets at the box office in the late 50s and early 60s. Also made me wonder if there was something going on between the two of them. Al was standing in the background giving the Professor the evil eye, so he must have caught the same thing.

"Well it looks delicious," I said as I was digging in.

And it was delicious, but the taste was a little different. It didn't taste like clam, it tasted more like something else. At first I couldn't put my finger on it, then it hit me.

I pronounced, "This is abalone."

Mary Ann laughed, "Silly Gilligan, there's no bologna on the island."

I persisted, "Not bologna, abalone, a shellfish that lives in deep water. It's a fairly expensive delicacy, I've only had it a few times."

Mr. Howell joined the conversation, "My dear boy, where in the world would you have had abalone. Its not exactly on the menu at Long John Silver's"

The skipper boomed, "Gilligan, if the Professor said its clams, its clams. You'll eat it, and you'll like it!"

I backed down, "Its delicious. I admit, I haven't had that much giant clam. The taste just reminded me of something else."

Mrs. Howell broke the silence with, "You know, I think the boy is right. This distinctly tastes of abalone. I didn't say anything before because I thought it was just me."

Mr. Howell immediately jumped to his wife's defense, "I've learned long ago not to argue with a Wentworth palate," to the Professor he added, "what exactly are we eating?"

The Professor admitted, "It is abalone"

The significance of this seemed lost on everyone except for the Skipper and myself.

The Skipper once again bellowed, but for once not at me, "Professor! To get that much meat you would have to do some serious diving. That is way too risky to for something different to eat. We have plenty of fish and fruit to eat."

The Professor replied, "I wouldn't do it for the meat. I needed the shells for the project I was working on located on the other side of the island. I'm almost done with the project, and I will take you out to it first thing in the morning. I wasn't trying to hide things from you, rather I didn't want to get your hopes up. I will be more than happy to answer all your questions when we get out there. What I was doing would be far to hard to explain right now."

I shot Al a quizzical look. Al stated, "I have no idea what he's up to. Neither does Ziggy. This is a real closed mouth guy."

We had a fairly quiet dinner, after which the professor excuses himself to work out calculations for whatever his secret project was. Once he was gone, the other castaways were speculating left and right what abalone shells could have to do with something that is obviously a rescue plan. The discussion went well into the night, but never really got anywhere. Afterwards the Skipper and I retired to our hut, where once again I had to master the bunk hammock.

I surmised that Skipper and Gilligan must be close friends, because it would be simple to set up two separate hammocks in the hut. Separating the hammocks, though, would not give the "at sea" feel to the hut. Both men are obviously more comfortable on the high seas than shipwrecked on land.

The practical retired Navy Captain said to me in the dark, "I guess we'll know soon enough what the Professor's plan is. Goodnight Little Buddy.'

"Goodnight Skipper," I almost automatically replied.

Even though my curiosity was piqued, I slept more soundly than any night since I started quantum leaping.


	5. The Professor's Plan

I awoke at the crack of dawn. The Skipper woke up soon after. There was plenty of activity in the camp, as everybody was anxious to see what the Professor's new plan to get us rescued was.

The Professor came out and said, "We're going to be doing some hiking, so wear appropriate shoes. Also, we won't be back until tomorrow morning, so pack a mat to sleep on and whatever else you need."

This was getting exciting. Even I was curious as to what was going on. We all had a quick breakfast of fruit bowls that Mary Ann made for us, along with some coconut milk, then returned to our huts to continue packing.

The Professor came into our hut to ask a favor of the Skipper and myself, "Would you gentlemen mind packing some of this dried salted abalone? I'm packing some myself, but can't carry it all. We'll need the protein. And Gilligan…no eating until I say so."

The Skipper answered, "Sure Professor, and don't worry… I'll keep my eye on Gilligan." Skipper gave a fairly threatening glance my way.

Mr. Howell then came into the hut, making a deal, "Oh, Gilligan, I'll give you five dollars to carry Mrs. Howell and my bags up the trail."

I replied, "Sorry, I've got some stuff to carry for the Professor. Besides, what good is money here anyway."

Mr. Howell looked as if I slapped him. He started to rant, "What good is money? Bite your tongue. Ten dollars, and that is my final offer."

Skipper looked like he was about to say something, but I beat him to the punch, "If that's your final offer…good. Now shove off and carry your own bag." Mr. Howell, clearly dumbstruck, left.

Skipper also looked a little surprised. I was afraid he was going to smack me, but instead he patted me on the back and said, "Little buddy, I've never seen you stand up to Mr. Howell like that. As a matter of fact, in the four years I've known you I've never seen you stand up to anybody like that."

We looked like quite a procession as we set out for our hike. The Professor was at point, Skipper and I took up the rear to assist any stragglers. In the middle we had Mr. and Mrs. Howell, both carrying umbrellas for shade; Ginger wearing a very attractive hiking outfit she made herself; and the natural beauty, Mary Ann, who was always dressed for a hike. Between Ginger and Mary Ann, seen only to me, was the holographic image of Rear Admiral Al Calavicci, USN.

The hike through the jungle was fairly strenuous due to the fact that the trails weren't as well cut, but these people were troupers. Even the Howells were holding their own. I can see how this group had survived here for so long. We had been climbing a bit to a higher elevation. Al seemed very focused on Ginger Grant.

When we came to a clearing we were all stunned speechless by what we saw. It looked like a huge TV Satellite Receiver surrounded by six stationary bicycles.

Mary Ann broke the silence, "What is it?"

My mind registered what I was looking at, and blurted out without thinking, "My God, he's built a parabolic transmitter from abalone shells and bamboo."

The Professor went into lecture mode, "That's exactly right. I used the shiny abalone shells for the dish, the tower is made from bamboo, and the transmitter is pieced together from the Minnow's radio, along with other pieces of electronics that washed ashore."

Mr. Howell looked at me with some suspicion and asked, "That's all fine and well Professor, but how did _Gilligan_ know what it was?"

The Professor also started to wonder, "Yes, Gilligan, how did you know?"

Al saved the day by saying "comic book" to me.

"Um, I saw something like it in a comic book," to get the attention off me I asked the Professor, "what's it for?"

The Professor then started talking more like a junior high science teacher explaining a difficult concept to a challenging student, "well Gilligan, if this works right, it will shoot a signal to the telstar communications satellite in outer space. To get the power for this the six of you will need to be riding the bicycles while I send the message. We won't have much of a window for this. My calculations tell me telstar will be in orbit over the island at exactly 4:15 a.m. We won't be able to send a voice message due to the transmitter's limitations, but I believe I can send a message in Morse code." He directed a request to the Skipper, "Skipper, can you help me with the message?… I'm sure your knowledge of Morse is much better than mine."

The Skipper answered, "Of course, Professor."

The Professor added, "I got the idea for this when listening to a radio broadcast on Telstar I. From that and astronomical observation, I was able to calculate when the satellite will be over the island. I kept my idea from you all until now so as not to give false hope. We've gotten our hopes up so many times before, but have been let down. I will tell you though, I honestly think this will work. Since this will a lot of energy on your part, I suggest you eat a hearty lunch… and get plenty of rest."

Al said, "See, I told you he was a genius" as everybody ate up some dried abalone and took a nap.

After we woke up refreshed from our naps, we set out to help the professor in any way we could. The Skipper was working on an SOS message in Morse code. Ginger and Mary Ann were making torches to light the area after dark. Even the Howells got into the act by finding a place for sleeping mats and making our temporary camp "home." (Of course Mr. and Mrs. Howell took the choice place to sleep). Meanwhile I was asking questions to the Professor, carefully trying not to show off my technical knowledge (after all I do have a PhD in physics, but Gilligan doesn't), but to direct him in the right path to making sure the transmitter will work.

Ginger came up to the Professor and purred, "You know, I'd really like to try my hand at screenwriting, and eventually directing. It's the only way you can really have staying power in this industry. I'm thinking of writing a screenplay about our adventures on the island. I haven't written anything before, though."

The Professor, focused on his calculations, replied, "I'm sure you'll do fine, Ginger."

Ginger persisted, "You've written some books, right?"

Al said to me, "I wanna smack this guy on the back of the head. One of the most beautiful women in the world is making advances, and he's more concerned about his calculations. What is it with you scientists?"

I mumbled low, "We all can't be Navy men."

The Professor answered Ginger, "I published one book about rust when I was in Ohio, and finished a book on ferns while I was here. Not hardly a Hollywood screenplay."

Al groaned.

Ginger, undaunted: "That's OK, Professor, I've read plenty of screenplays. I know the format and my name alone would help sell it. What you could help me with is the technical aspects."

The Professor allowed, "I'll think about it."

Al bemoaned, "He'll think about it."

Then Al's communication link with Ziggy, the Quantum Leap computer, started beeping like crazy. "Gushy," he yelled to the technician in a commanding voice I hadn't heard in awhile, "Get me up there, NOW!" With that, Al vanished. When Al turns into the Admiral… I know something is up. And it's probably not good.

It was starting to get dark. Mary Ann and Ginger brought out the dried abalone along with some coconuts and fruit. The professor lit the torches. We all ate some dinner, and laid down for a few hours rest before we sent the rescue message.


	6. Al Brings News

I had just dozed off when I heard a familiar voice shouting in my ear, "Sam! Sam! Wake up!"

"What time is it Al?" I asked the worried looking hologram.

"Its almost midnight, but that's not what's important," Al replied, "Ziggy is now saying there is a 98 percent chance you are here to _prevent_ the castaways from being rescued!"

That really puzzled me. "Prevent? Why? How?" I asked, sure I'd get some answers.

Al went on, "The satellite the Professor thought was Telstar is actually a Russian spy satellite. If he broadcasts his message, the Russians will interpret it as counterespionage. They will then launch a surface to surface missile from a nearby "fishing trawler" which will knock out the antenna, and half the island along with it."

"The half we're on," I muttered rhetorically. "So to save these people, I have to fowl up their rescue attempt?"

Al answered, "Precisely. But since you did such a good job making the professor check his work with your 'questions', the transmitter is in perfect working order. You need to figure out a way to make it not work without arising suspicion."

I agreed, "Yes, this seems like a friendly group… but who knows what they would do with Gilligan if they thought he was a saboteur. I have to think of a way to make this look like an accident, something that won't arouse too much suspicion."

"Good luck," Al said.

I walked over to the antenna. I couldn't do anything very overt, since the Professor was right there.

"Hello Gilligan, why aren't you resting?" The Professor asked once he spotted me.

"Guess I'm too excited about being rescued," I replied.

"I don't blame you," said the Professor. Then the Professor looked somewhat serious, "Like I said earlier, I didn't tell the others about my plan, because I didn't want hopes to get up. It seems every time we get close to getting rescued something happens to prevent that. It would be a shame if that happened again. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"I think so Professor," I replied. He was obviously hinting at the 'bad luck' that seems to go along with Gilligan's 'good luck.' I added, " I think I'm going to go get some rest."

The Professor responded, "That's a good idea, I'm going to try to get a couple hours of sleep myself."

As I went back to my mat, much like a kindergartener at nap time, I had an idea of how to complete my mission without getting Gilligan hung from the nearest palm tree.

I awoke to the sound of the Professor blowing into a gourd. It was still dark out.

"Egads,"cried Mr. Howell, "What time is it?"

The Professor called out, "its 3 a.m. time to make final preparations for our 4:15 signal."

Mr. Howell mumbled, "This is far too early for a Howell."

Al asked me, "Sam do you have a plan?"

I whispered, "Yes, and hopefully Gilligan won't be in too much trouble."

We were all making a final checklist on the equipment we were responsible for. The professor was checking the transmitter and generator. The rest of us were checking the drive trains and cables (vines) on our exercise bikes. To get enough electricity, we were told, we would have to be riding at least a half an hour. We ate a breakfast of abalone (which I'll be happy if I never taste any again) and fruit, while drinking plenty of water to prepare ourselves for our ride. I also made a little special preparation of my own.

At 3:45 the Professor announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, start your bikes." The six of us then started on our tour de nowhere.

I had Al buzzing in my ear, "Saaammmm…."

I said, "Don't worry."

Mary Ann, thinking the comment was for her, chirped, "I'm not worried, I'm confident in the Professor."

Al added, "Unfortunately, so am I."

I countered with, "Every thing's gonna be all right." Again it was meant for Al, but the rest of the group saw it as Gilligan cheering them on.

About 4:00 AM sparks literally began to fly as the generator fired up. I could here the tubes in the transmitter working.

The Professor said, "Not too much longer now."

Al, who was getting annoying, agreed, "You can say that again, bud."

Mr. Howell lamented, "I certainly hope not, I'm actually perspiring. And I was told since I was a boy that Howell's don't do that."

Ginger scolded, "Quiet Mr. Howell, if the Professor's plan works we'll be off the island."

Al, never far from Ginger, said, "She's part right, if he succeeds they'll be off the island, as well as scattered all over the island."

"That's enough!" I shouted to Al, but everybody else thought it was directed to them.

The Skipper once again came to my aid, "Gilligan's right, lets quit the chatter and give the professor more power."

The Professor called out, "Here we go!"

Al put his fingers in his ears.

We really started humming along on the bikes. I prepared myself for only what I knew was going to happen next. Just as the professor was going to start sending the message, my stationary bike "accidentally" broke free. I yelled for courage as I sped towards the transmitter tower, my wooden wheels crunching abalone shells along the way.

I prepared myself as best I could for impact, to avoid breaking any of Gilligan's bones. Nonetheless, I hit the tower hard, and I felt it, but I managed to avoid seriously injuring myself/Gilligan. Just as I heard the others shouting, I saw the transmitter tower safely fall away from the others. I also felt the familiar feeling as I leaped out of the life of Willie Gilligan, knowing full well the message was never transmitted.


End file.
